


Why Not?

by 1llusionmachine



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Confined Spaces, First Kiss, M/M, ridiculous use of innuendo, youre welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 09:15:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30120528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1llusionmachine/pseuds/1llusionmachine
Summary: Two bros, fixing up the Falcon, one foot apart cause there's no space(AKA: Sometimes the smaller moments are the ones that matter the most.)
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Finn
Comments: 6
Kudos: 33





	Why Not?

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently I ship Stormpilot now, so here's my first FinnPoe fic, I hope it's alright! 
> 
> As always comments and kudos are welcome!

"Poe, you in here?" Finn calls into the empty corridors of the Falcon. "Rose is looking for you..." 

Poe pops his head up from a hole in the grating.

"Finn!" He grins. "Can you come and help me here? In a bit of a spot..." 

He disappears again, and Finn walks over to peer down into the open hole, where Poe is stood in the underbelly of the ship, surrounded by wires, tubes, circuits, and force knows what else.

"Where is everyone?" Finn asks. "Weren't Rey and Chewie helping?"

"No, they left a while ago. The General needed them or something. Or that's what they told me, anyway..." He trails off, examining two parts before choosing the correct one. He looks up at him. "You gonna come down here or not?"

Finns frowns - he really isn't good at repairs and things. The last time he tried to help, the console started spewing out smoke and Poe had had to go back in with a gas mask on to fix it. It was mortifying.

"I'm not sure this is a good idea..." He mumbles.

Poe smiles, clearly thinking of the same event. 

"It's not gonna happen again, Finn. Get down here."

He raises a hand, wiggling his fingers. Finn takes it, sighs at his inability to say no to Poe, and drops down onto the edge of the hole before jumping in, stumbling into him.

"Easy, buddy. You alright?" Poe says, hands cupping his hips to steady him, eyes searching his face for any discomfort. Finn nods, and Poe drops his hands, realising they've been lingering there for far too long, a blush creeping to his cheeks. Not that it puts much distance between them - Finn realises far too late that he should have stayed above deck - there's barely any room down here. They're so packed in that they've had to interlock their feet one after another, and he can feel their knees knocking together. 

"Right..." Poe clears his throat after a moment. He looks around before grabbing a long, silver patterned part, and then a rounded piece. 

"Hold these...and this..."

Finn balances multiple parts in his hands. There's so little room that he has to prop an elbow on the opposite wall so he doesn't fall right onto Poe. Not that he would mind if that ended up happening. And, if he was being honest, he doesn't think Poe would mind, either. There have been so many almost-moments between them in the past (looks that linger too long, hugs that are too tight with hands in places they don't usually go on a friend, that time they shared a bunk on a mission and woke up in each other's arms) that make him think that maybe his feelings towards Poe aren't entirely unrequited. Maybe.

His train of thought is interrupted when Poe drops to his knees to open a panel on the wall beside him. Oh. 

His eyes go wide and he tries very, very hard to not let his thoughts go into the gutter, but then Poe looks up at him with those big brown eyes, lip pinched between his teeth in concentration.

"Okay, can I have the rod, please?" He asks. 

Finn's brain short-circuits. Surely it's not just him who hears the other meaning here? He can't help but raise an eyebrow. 

Poe rolls his eyes.

"The part, Finn. I wouldn't be so crude." He says in mock offence, clutching his chest.

"I'm sure your squad would say otherwise." Finn quips. He sees the smile playing at the corner of Poe's mouth as he passes him the suggestive part in question. Their fingers bump together, and the heat of the contact blooms pleasantly on his skin. 

Poe slides the part into place, pulling a screwdriver from his front pocket to secure it. 

"Can I have that other part, please? The round silver one?"

Finn hands him the part. Poe considers it for a second. 

"I think I need a screw, too, actually." 

He puts the screwdriver between his teeth, holding out a palm, his eyes absolutely alight with mischief. 

Yeah, he knows what he's doing.

Finn drops the piece into his hand without a word, hoping to force that his face hasn't given him away.  He watches as Poe opens and aligns various sections of the part with a concentrated, intense look, before twisting the complicated piece into place with the screw. He's always enjoyed watching Poe work, fascinated by his knowledge, and he can't help his gazing travelling to his hands, entranced by the movement. He was a pilot, after all, so it made sense that he'd be good with his hands. His fingers were pretty long, too, he noted-

Jeez, was it getting hot down here? 

After few more long, painful minutes of handing Poe various parts and tools ("Can you hold my spanner, Finn?"), he finally secures the panel back onto the wall with a satisfied sigh, wiping his brow and running a hand through his hair. 

"I'll have to test it later, but that should fix the problems with the breaks." 

He stands back up to his full height. Finn would say he was grateful he was no longer down by his crotch, but now he was face to face with him again. That stupid, lovely face.

"Thanks, buddy." Poe says, patting his shoulder. There's a split second where Finn feels his fingers squeeze. "Didn't mess it up this time."

"Yeah, _this_ time..." Finn grumbles. "This thing is so old, it could blow at any second."

"Hey!" He pats the wall affectionately. "This place is a piece of history."

Finn gives him a deadpan look.

"Poe. It's so old, it makes Maz look young."

Poe splutters into a laugh, then, a genuine giggle, and Finn laughs along, finds his chest swelling with affection at the way Poe's nose scrunches up, the way he fills any space he's in with easy joy. He yearns to pull him close, to tell him how beautiful he thinks he is. 

Poe's laughter dies down, and he looks at Finn with soft eyes. 

"She won't wanna hear that."

He's got that lopsided smile on his face, and smears of dark oil across his cheek and shirt, and his hair is messy, and he just looks so much like  _Poe_ right now that-

"Can I kiss you?" Finn blurts out. 

Poe blinks, jaw going slack. Finn thinks he's messed up big time, that maybe he's been reading their signals and jokes all wrong, but then the other man just gives him a shy smile, the blush back on his face. 

"Do you want me to?" He murmurs into the small space between them. The look in his eyes reminds him of the moment he took his helmet off, the moment they decided to save each other all that time ago - relieved, shocked, hopeful - but there's something else there too. His tongue darts out unconsciously to wet his lip, waiting. He looks so vulnerable, so unsure, that Finn is just overcome with emotion - this man gave him a second life, a better life, his freedom, his  _name_. How could he ever think that Finn would want anyone else after meeting him?

He doesn't take time to think, just tangles his fists into the front of his shirt and pulls him close, crashing their mouths together.

Poe is stunned for a moment, utterly still, before his eyes flutter closed and he kisses back with enthusiasm, his hand slotting into place around the back of his neck almost on instinct, the other splaying across his back, holding him close. Finn has no intention of leaving - the way their lips move together, finding a rhythm for the first time, is intoxicating. Its unfamiliar but at the same time feels so right, so easy, like breathing. A small moan echoes in the back of Poe's throat and it makes Finn giddy, knowing that he's enjoying this just as much as he is. It makes him think of how else he can give him pleasure, show how important he is to him. Everything is so damn perfect he worries that he's dreaming, that maybe he's still in that coma in the med bay. He almost feels like doesn't deserve this, this level of happiness. It's too selfish. 

"Finn..." Poe speaks against his lips when they pull back for breath, not wanting to break contact. "Believe me when I say I'm glad we finally did this but...why now?" 

Finn decides to tell the truth. 

"Why not? I thought you looked beautiful, and I got thinking...about how you gave me this second chance. Why would I waste it and hide how I feel about you?"

Poe swallows thickly. 

"So this is happening?" He sounds a bit strained, breathless. 

"If you'll have me." 

Finn's heart skips a beat when Poe's palm caresses his jaw, thumb brushing across his cheekbone.

"Of course." He says. "I think you're beautiful, too. Gods, there's no one else, Finn. I've been hoping. Waiting. I wanted it to be what you wanted first." He babbles.

"Oh." Finn breathes, unable to look anywhere else but his eyes, his lips. So he did like him all along. And waited for him. He presses their foreheads together, overwhelmed once again - he's never had someone care about him this much.

Poe nuzzles against him for a moment but pulls away, his expression suddenly deadly serious, his face stern. 

"I do have a question, though..."

Finn gives him a puzzled look. Poe breaks into a winning smile.

"Want to help me with another rod later?"

Finn rolls his eyes, but reaches a hand down to cup his ass and squeeze, pulling him closer. Poe suppresses a groan at where their bodies meet.

"Really? Is this what it's gonna be like with you?" He asks. 

"Of course."

"I hate you." 

"No you don't."

Finn grins, and Poe leans in to capture his lips again, softer this time. For some reason this is the kiss that gives him butterflies. He sighs into it, trying to memorise every detail: the feel of the material of Poe's shirt and the heat of the skin beneath, the slight scent of cologne mixed with engine oil, the scruff of his stubble, the way his fingers gently cradle his face. 

No, he doesn't hate him: it's quite the opposite, actually.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! You can find me  
> on tumblr @1llusionmachine :)


End file.
